WRITE A POST IN RESPONSE TO TODAY’S ONE – WORD PROMPT.
I sit here on my bench. My favorite place in the park. I watch the fog roll in off the banks of the river till you can’t even see what lies beyond the trees. You can no longer see the river or watch the fishing boats striding through the inky blackness with their lights twinkling to forewarn oncoming traffic that they are there.
I can now only see the 10 feet around the bench from where I sit. It is suddenly very quiet and I feel as if I am all alone in the world. In my secluded hideaway, it is just me and nature. Thoughts of Vampires, Werewolves, and Zombies begin to swarm in my head and for the first time in all the years of coming to my relaxing spot, I feel a sliver of unease. Then the thought hits me “there are no such things as Vampire, Werewolves, and Zombies silly.”
I chuckle to myself and lean back, a little more at ease with myself. Why does my mind always go to such things when I hear or see the word FOG! I know my mind plays tricks on me and I have a very active imagination. I have to admit, though, the scene in front of me is ripe with supernatural innuendo.
I sit here a bit longer just relaxing and letting my mind wander. This is the most peaceful I have ever been. Then my mind begins to think of other very real monsters. Serial Killers, Rapist, Burglars. A night like this would be the perfect time for one to slip in unnoticed and slit my throat or worse.I hear a twig snap or is that just my imagination playing tricks on me again. A real shiver of fear races, down my spine and I, figure I have spent just about enough time in my favorite spot for the night.
I race home where the Fog hasn’t reached yet and as I step out of the park it is as if the world has woken up again. Street lights, cars honking, people milling about. Funny I didn’t hear all of this traffic only 200 feet away. Man, that Fog really sucked up the sound too I guess.
I get to my building and a tension I didn’t know I had been holding releases from my shoulders. I know I am safe from any human bad guys and another chuckle erupts out of me as I realize I said, human. As if the other fairytale monsters were real. A full blown laugh escapes just as I reach Hank, my doorman. “Hi, Hank,” I say as he tips his hat to me and holds the door open. Too bad I didn’t see his eyes begin to glow and his fangs elongate as if to say the better to eat you with as I hustled up the stairs to my apartment…